Trouble
by BINKIES
Summary: As the new girl in an academy of competitive athletics and very egoistic students, she just wants to fit in. But that may prove to be impossible when she catches the eye of Mr Popular.


**___Disclaimer:_**___ I do not own any of The Digimon characters, they belong to **Toei Animation**. ____The original content, ideas, storyline and OCs, however, belong to BINKIES. T__his story may not be reproduce, copy, scanned, or distributed through the internet without an electronic written permission from the author. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrights that violates the rights of the author. Thank you._

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_**Chapter 1: New Girl in Town**_

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I sighed in exasperation while I pulled a purple cardigan out of the various cardboard boxes that were scattered around my room. Packing six boxes of my life may have been tough, but the unpacking was even more painful. I didn't realize how stuffed the boxes were until I opened them a few minutes ago.

I scowled myself for being stubborn. Dad had suggested packing only the necessary clothes I needed and donating the rest to charity. He also promised he would buy me an entire new wardrobe once arrived to Shibuya, but I didn't listen. I was incapable of picking and choosing which clothes to take and leave. See, most of my clothes were one of a kind, made by the one and only Amelia Arcari, top fashion designer in Italy who happens to be my favorite aunt.

I wasn't materialistic nor did I care about wearing the latest trends and brands. To be honest, it was the only thing I had left from the Arcari family. After Celia, also known as my mother, ran out on Dad and me a few months ago, I thought I had lost Amelia too. The Arcari didn't like my dad very much because he was Japanese and top of that he took away my mother from her family when they got married and moved to Japan for a few years.

Though the Arcari were reluctant toward my dad, they were more hostile toward me because of what I represented. Luckily, not all the Arcari were like that. Amelia, who was my mother's youngest sister out of seven children, took the liberty to be involved in my life since I was six years old and had barely moved to Italy. She babysat me during her pre-teen years. Became the person I turned to for advice during my awkward years. And became my role model and a best friend during my teenage years. It would have been tragic if she cut me off from her life entirely after Celia left especially since they were really close. But she didn't.

Instead Amelia helped take care of things; she made sure that my dad and I was eating properly and was not isolating ourselves from the rest of the world. She would come by the house early in the morning to wake us up and get ready for school or work. She would clean the house and do the laundry when I couldn't do it because of my soccer games and meetings. She attended my parent-teacher meetings when Dad couldn't go and she helped me get ready for school dances and dates. In all reality, Amelia was more like a mom than my own real mother. It was because of her that I didn't miss Celia that much.

Then Dad got a job as an executive chef at a very luxurious restaurant located in Shibuya and the next thing I knew I was packing.

I can't say I wasn't upset at Dad when I heard the news because that would have been a lie. Amelia provided me with the comforting words I needed to hear though. She explained to me why this job opportunity was important to my dad and why I should stop being selfish.

Harsh words, I know, but they were the truth. I forced my dad to choose between me and her job. Our relationship was strained for days. After talking with Amelia, I stopped fighting my dad and packed my things. Now, I was stuck in Japan dreading the worst. High school.

I had the weekend left before summer vacation would be over and I would find myself attending Shibuya High. Though, my dad made it sound like one of the top high schools in Japan and was one of the friendliest places to make friends since he went there, I had a hard time believing him. It was bad enough I had to leave all my friends in Italy and miss out on spending my senior year with them, but now I had to deal with making new friends and fitting in. Something a senior shouldn't be concerning about on their last year of high school. College and tests on the other hand should have been the top worries.

Folding jeans, I continued to put away my clothes for the next hour or so, wondering about the kind of people I would be meeting at Shibuya High. I wouldn't be surprise if there are cliques. Most schools seemed to have them.

Where would I fit? I asked myself as I pinched the straps of a flower-printed dress and searched for hanger. I played in the girls' soccer team in Italy and had many guy friends that were in the boys' soccer team, but that didn't mean I was jock. I was a member of other clubs too; the dance team, the art club, journalism, Sustainability Committee and the Student's Activity Committee These were just some of the many things I was involved in, which it was the reason why I was friends with just about anybody. I never limited myself with friends or cliques. I wasn't like that, but I was pretty sure that things worked differently at Shibuya High.

I could already imagine the stares I was going to receive as the new girl. I shuddered. The best I could do was avoid drama.

As I was finishing up unpacking the fourth box I heard Dad calling me from downstairs.

"Izumi!" He shouted.

I rolled my eyes. No matter how many times I had told my dad that my name was Zoe, he continued to call my Izumi. He thought Izumi better and he wanted to name me that when I was born, but Celia refused. At the time, she was trying so hard to get Arcari to accept me so she chose a name that was easy to pronounce and that made her family would feel comfortable with. It didn't do her any good, though. The certificate might read Zoe Orimoto Arcari, but that did not mean I was part of their family.

I never really care either. I accepted a long time that I wasn't going to be part of the Arcari. I liked the name Zoe though. I just wish my dad did too.

"Coming!" I shouted back. Setting down a pair of jeans on my bed, I walked out of my room and went downstairs. I headed to the kitchen where I was sure I would find my dad there.

Dad had been trying out his recipes ever since we got to Shibuya. He wanted to make sure they were perfect before he presented them to the owner of Saito's. Apparently, the restaurant was in the middle of a makeover process, which also meant changing the menu. As the executive chef of Saito, it was my dad's duty fix it so for the past few days all we have been eating was his new recipes. My dad was a really good chef, everything he made was delicious. Plus, I got to eat for free the same meals that were probably going to be expensive once Saito reopens. Who would complain about that?

Dad was in the kitchen as I assumed he would be stirring what looked like soup. My eyes widened at the sight of a crowded granite island table. There were various dishes ranging from appetizers, salads, entrees, and desserts platted like an art piece in an art show.

Dad must be on chef mode, I told myself approaching the island table. Everything smelled so good, but I reached for a strawberry-flavor Uiro (_steam cake_), which looked a lot like a small perfect three layered cube. Dad used to make Uiro all of the time when I was five until I grew out of them and ate only Italian food.

"What's up Dad?" I asked, taking a bite of the Uiro.

At the sound of my voice, Dad glanced over his shoulder. "Ah, sweetheart, I was wondering if you go to the groceries and get me some ingredients." he smiled.

I looked up at him and raised my eyebrows. Was he kidding? He's already made enough food that could last us an entire year.

"I can't make rice balls without rice, can't I?" he went on and laughed as if it was the most hilarious thing he has ever said.

"Or, you don't have to make rice balls," I suggested, shrugging and grabbed another Uiro.

"Izumi, rice balls are very popular in Japan," he spoke enthusiastically as he continued. "I'll just rewrite this. "I need to make mine unique and for that I need you to buy rice. I have some great ideas," he finished with a huge grin like he was already imagining the dish in his mind.

The grin was also contagious. I couldn't say no. Dad has been in good mood a lot lately, which was a nice change from being miserable and bitter. I didn't think he was ever going to recover after everything that happened with Celia.

Fortunately, things didn't turn out that way.

"Fine," I grabbed my jacket from the chair. "But I want Lasagna tomorrow night."

"That I can do," I heard him shout as I walked outside. The sun was still out, but it wasn't so high. I had a few hours to run to the grocery store, buy the rice and head back home before it gets dark. Leave to my dad not to think about the time. He sometimes gets carried away when he's in the kitchen.

Getting to Dean & Deluca Supermarket was surprisingly quick and refreshing on foot than on the train. I didn't like the trains anyways. They were crowded and smelly in this kind of hot weather. The first day I arrived to Shibuya, I went grocery shopping with my dad since we didn't have food in the refrigerator. Dad wanted to take the train because he said it was the quickest way to get there. I can't say it was a joyful ride. The pre-teenage boy that stood next to me wasn't just flirting with me, but he also stank from sweat. I could have blamed it on the weather, but I was pretty sure that he wasn't familiar with deodorant. It was the most uncomfortable ride. Since then, I have been walking on foot all around Shibuya trying to get familiar with the neighborhood and place.

Amazingly, I haven't gotten lost. Too bad it wasn't the same outcome when it came to buying rice. I stood in front of a shelf stocked with eight different brands of rice. I scoffed myself for not paying attention to the brand that my dad usually buys. Now I was going to have to call him and admit that I needed help, which one of the things I hated the most. Asking for help.

I searched the pockets of my jacket. My eyes widened in panic at the sudden realization. I didn't have my cell phone with me. I must have left it on my nightstand charging.

Great job Zoe, I groaned to myself and buried my face on my hands. I was probably going to need to head back home and ask my dad for the name of the brand he uses and then back again. That was another hour wasted.

A quiet laughter from behind me made me looked up and turn around to see who dared made fun at me. Thinking wildly of a witty retort at the tip of my tongue to toss at the person, I bit back those words when I saw a girl.

The girl before me looked about the same age as me – seventeen. Except she was a whole lot prettier. Straight, shoulder-length auburn hair. Flawless skin complexion. And supermodel physique. Sharp violet eyes like I have never seen before. I bet that she was one of those popular girls that I was worry about meeting on Monday, but her outfit said otherwise.

She was wearing a black casual dress with small white polka dot prints and a square neckline. Those red high tops converse shoes looked comfortable to walk in. It was a cute outfit honestly, but it wasn't something you expect a girl with a high status in school to wear. This made me doubt that she was popular at all.

I wonder who this girl was and if I should be worried.

As if she read my mind, the girl bowed. "Hi, I'm Rika Nonaka. You must be new in town." She said, straightening.

That last part sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Zoe," I stared semi confused. "What gave me away?" I asked before I could even stop myself.

Rika wasn't offended by my question. She happily answered. "Well, for starters, locals don't hesitate to grab Kokuho only someone how isn't from Japan would have chosen a different brand. And secondly, there aren't that many people with blonde hair and green eyes who are from Japan unless they are foreigners. No offense." she finished.

"None taken," I responded dryly because in all truth I was offended that she called me a foreigner when in fact I was actually born in Japan. But I couldn't write her off for her comment could I? She didn't know. Instead I glance back at the shelf and grabbed the rice bag labeled Kokuho. "Kokuho, huh?"

Rika nodded as she grabbed her own bag of Kokuho "Yup, it's great for sushi and rice balls. Is your mom making any of those?" she lifted her eyebrows at me expecting an answer.

"My dad is making rice balls, actually. He's a chef."

"Oh that's cool. I'm buying rice for my grandma. She's making rice balls too nothing special though." Rika said casually as we walked together to the cash register to check out our items. Dad mention that rice balls were very popular in Japan so it made me think that was the reason why Rika was casual about it. Maybe eating rice balls wasn't a big deal to the locals like Rika as my dad made it seem.

I frowned to myself. How was I going to break the news to my dad? He was excited about coming up with a unique recipe using rice balls.

"So where are you from?" Rika broke me out of my reverie. I turned back to her and realized that we had exited Dean & Deluca without me noticing. Rika must be great at keeping a conversation going without actually knowing the person. It made me wonder if she was one of those popularity kids. She had to be with that charisma of hers.

It took me a minute to remember that Rika was still waiting for an answer. "Italy." I said and went one as we walked in the same direction. "My dad and I moved to Shibuya a few days ago."

I scoffed myself after saying those words. Of course it was obvious that we moved to Shibuya otherwise what I would be doing here. Rika probably thinks that I'm stupid or something.

Rika smiled instead. "Does that mean you will be attending Shibuya High?"

I nodded my head once, but before I could say anything Rika was already talking again.

"I go there too. I could give you a ride on Monday if you want?"

My eyes lit up at her sudden offer. I feel a whole lot better if I walked to school with someone that I know. But then I remember I didn't really know Rika and my excitement dimmed. We just met. She didn't even know where I lived and I didn't want to impose either.

"I don't want to be a bothered."

"No sense. Where do you live?" she asked.

I wasn't sure if I should be giving a complete stranger my address, Rika didn't seemed like the murder type. Besides we went to the same school so it must be okay, right?

"17th and Akita Street," I said remembering how rusty the street light looked.

Rika's smile grew even wider. "All the better. I live three blocks from Akita. It won't be a bother."

I gaze at her doubtfully, but she seemed to so…excited about giving me ride. Another thing I couldn't pinpoint. I was nothing interesting or special. I was just me. Zoe Orimoto. Then again, I couldn't risk my chance of making a new friend either, could I?

"Okay then. I ride would be nice." I returned the smile.

"I'll pick up at 7 am sharp. Be ready."

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_**A/N:**_ _Hey Everyone!_

_It's been a long time since I have written or updated anything but school, senior year, and among other things got in the way. The good news is that I'm almost out of school and that means getting back to my all stories. So please let me know what you think._

_*A very special thank to my new BETA, FMN,for helping me. You're the best._


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